


Limbo

by StainedGlassSpecs



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:17:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7865350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StainedGlassSpecs/pseuds/StainedGlassSpecs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been months since Will Byers came back from the dead, but Jonathon is still worried about his brother. Meanwhile, Nancy and Mike are seeing ghosts, and Steve is just trying to navigate all the weird turns his life has taken.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_

“How about this one?” Barb said, flipping the brochure around to show Nancy a picture of New York University. Nancy screwed her face up, sitting a little bit straighter on the bed.

“NYU?” she said. “Why would we go there?”

“Because it’s in New York, dumbass,” Barb said. “Look, I know you’ve got your heart set on Ivy League, but there are other things to think about. NYU actually has a lot of great opportunities.”

Nancy plucked the brochure out of her hands and turned it over sceptically. “I really don’t think New York’s for me. It’s not like I need the big city experience, I just want to go to school.”

“Well, you might feel differently in a few years. Who knows what the future holds?”

It was getting dark outside. The late afternoon light was starting to dwindle away, casting Nancy’s room in shadows. It was getting to the point where she should turn on the lamp, but the twilight was nice – it was a good time for sharing deep thoughts.

Nancy swept the pile of brochures and books to the side and flopped down on her bed, taking the chance to redirect the conversation. “I wonder what things will be like in the future. What will we be doing? Or wearing?”

“You mean if we and the Soviets don’t bomb the world to pieces between now and then?”

“Barb.”

“I’m just saying, the radiation fallout would be so much more damaging than anyone seems to realise ...”

“ _Barb_.”

“Okay, okay.” Nancy felt the mattress bounce as Barb lay down beside her. “ _If_ we survive, I hope that sports go out of fashion and jazz music comes back in. And you will be working with NASA, helping to colonise Mars, and I will be dating a rich, wealthy foreigner with a degree in gender studies.”

Nancy laughed. “Oh really? And who will I be dating?”

“No one, because your dating choices will continue to suck well into the next millennium. Besides, there are no idiots on Mars to date.”

“Okay, enough of the Mom-ing!” Nancy hit Barb in the stomach with a pillow. “Maybe I’ll be married to Steve, and we can colonize Mars together,” she teased.

Barb groaned and tried to smother herself with the pillow. “Why do you do this to me?”

“Come on, Barb. Steve’s not that bad. Remember when he wore that ugly sweater at Christmas? You totally almost laughed.”

“Did not.”

“You did! It was that bad, even _Jonathon_ laughed when he walked in and saw it. Well, I mean, he choked, but it’s basically the same thing. And Steve knew that, right, he wore it just so we’d crack up, but also because he was trying to suck up to my parents ...”

“No, Nance.” Barb’s voice was suddenly low and quiet. “I didn’t laugh. I wasn’t there.”

Nancy’s stomach clenched. She rolled over to look at Barb, but her friend’s face was turned towards the window, and there was no light left to see. “Barbara?” she whispered.

There was no answer.

Panicking, Nancy reached out to shake her friend’s shoulder, but her hand was met with nothing but lumpy pillows. Barbara wasn’t there.

_

Nancy jerked awake, feeling cold and sore from falling asleep on top of the covers. The room was pitch-dark, hours past twilight, and she was all alone in the room.

Grief sunk into her, so savage that she could barely breathe. She sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face into the denim skirt. A sob bubbled up inside her. She tried to swallow it down, so sick of the dull pain that pulled at her insides, spiking at the most unexpected times.

She’d had nightmares every night for the past two months, and Barb featured in some of them – screaming as she was dragged away, or lying there dead as the monster fed upon her flesh. But this was worse. The dreams that felt so much like how things used to be, when they talked about boys and school and the future. Dumb conversations that she’d never get to have again. Nancy felt so alone.

She sometimes called Steve after a nightmare, and that made her feel better. He always answered, no matter how late it was or how deeply he’d been sleeping, and had only dozed off mid-conversation one time.

More rarely, she called Jonathon. She didn’t like doing it, because he needed sleep more than her and got far less of it (she could tell from the bags under his eyes at school), and also because his home only had one phone, and the last thing she wanted was to wake Will and Joyce. But sometimes she just couldn’t help herself. He was never groggy on the phone, like Steve was. He was tense and quiet, but he just – he understood. He never called her, but sometimes she got the feeling that he wanted to, and was relieved that she made the first step.

Nancy thought about calling one of them now, and even glanced at the phone beside her bed. But she didn’t pick it up. The three of them had faced a monster together, but Steve and Jonathon didn’t lose Barb. This moment was between her and her friend, and always would be. So she curled back up, nursing her grief, and closed her eyes.

_‘Hey ... Hel...”_

Nancy jumped. Mike’s voice was outside the house. Why was he outside?

_“Help..!”_

Nancy sprang out of bed and grabbed her torch from the bedside table. She then scrambled to open her lockable jewellery box, where Jonathon’s gun was now kept. He’d let her keep it, after everything, and it might be messed up, but she felt safer with it in her room. She spared a moment to check the gun was loaded, adjusting to the weight of it in her hand once more, before throwing her door open and sprinting down the stairs.

Mike was halfway across their front yard when she caught up to him, shivering in his threadbare pyjamas and bare feet. He was looking out into the darkness, squinting at the road and beyond it. Nancy scanned her surroundings, but couldn’t see anything.

“Mike, what the hell are you doing out here?” she demanded.

He barely acknowledged her, still looking around. “I saw her ... she was just here ...”

“Who? What are you talking about?” Then Nancy saw the walkie-talkie clutched in his hand. Her heart sank for the second time that night. He wasn’t calling for help, she realised. He was calling for El. “Eleven? Is that who you mean?”

“Yeah,” he said breathlessly.

“Mike ... she’s not here. You were just dreaming.”

“No, I’m telling you, she was talking to me on here,” He held up the walkie-talkie. “And then I saw her out the window! I ... why do you have a gun?”

“Because I thought you were being attacked,” she snapped. He stared at her like she was some kind of two-headed alien, so she sighed and tucked it into the waistband of her skirt. “Look, Mike. Eleven’s not out here, and it’s freezing, so we need to go back inside.”

“She was here,” he said stubbornly, looking down at his walkie-talkie.

“You were just ...”

“Shut up!” he yelled. “I know her, okay! I know it was her.”

Nancy pressed her lips together, resisting the urge to yell back. Mike looked down at his walkie-talkie, tears in his eyes. “She was here,” he said stubbornly. In spite of how frustrated she was, Nancy felt her heart break a little.  _Be a good sister for once,_ she told herself.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said softly. Mike looked back up at her, half-incredulous, half-hopeful. “Look, I get it, okay? I miss my friend too. Eleven was a special girl, so who knows, maybe she might come back. Barbara ... she’s not ... she’s never coming back. But I still see her everywhere, and all I can think of is how unfair it is, that she’s gone and I’m still here. I even feel like it’s my fault. It sucks, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mike said thickly.

She didn’t know if she was doing the right thing, validating his fantasy. A part of her was even angry, because she’d had Barb a lot longer than he’d had his first girlfriend. But in this moment, standing in the cold night air and surrounded by little islands of snow, she felt like they were in the exact same place. Maybe it didn’t matter that he believed Eleven could come back. She still died, and it hurt the same way.

Nancy put an arm around his shoulders. Surprisingly, he let her. “Come on. Eleven knows how to use the basement door. If she comes back, she’ll want to see you alive, not frozen to the front lawn like Jack Nicholson.”

He choked out a laugh, and let the walkie-talkie hang limply by his side. Nancy tightened her hold on his shoulders and turned to lead him back inside.

Behind them, a twig snapped.

Nancy instantly spun back around, pointing the gun straight ahead. Mike sucked in a breath and clung to her arm. They both stood there, rooted to the spot, as the seconds ticked by. There was nothing to see, and nothing more to hear, but somehow, she felt like they were being watched.

“Eleven?” she whispered.

Mike gulped audibly. “No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”

Slowly, Nancy lowered the gun. “Must have been a cat.”

“Yeah.”

Mike needed no further encouragement to go back inside, and kept hold of her arm as they made their way back. He watched as she locked and bolted the door. Once that was done, she let out a breath and tucked the gun back into her waistband. “You okay?” she asked.

Mike nodded, hugging his arms around himself to keep the shivers in, not quite looking at her.

“Okay, well get your ass to bed before Mom wakes up. School tomorrow, right?”

He wiped his nose on the corner of his sleeve. “Okay. Uh, sorry for making you go all Ellen Ripley over nothing.”

She cracked a smile. “You think I’m like Ripley?”

“Not that cool,” he said quickly. “But still. I’m sorry.”

She shoved him lightly in the shoulder. “It’s fine. Go to bed, twerp.”

He scuttled off towards the stairs, and somehow, she knew that he probably wouldn’t get any more rest than her. When she got back up to her own room – her empty, Barb-less room – Nancy couldn’t stop herself from peering back out the window.

Still nothing. And yet, she slept with the gun under her pillow that night. With her hand curled loosely around the barrel, it felt like she was holding Jonathon’s hand, and she somehow drifted off to sleep.

_

 


	2. Chapter 2

When everything with the monster was over and things went back to normal, Steve had been cautiously optimistic. His whole world had been turned inside out and upside down, but he’d survived a monster attack and Nancy was, somehow, still with him. In light of everything that happened, those two things seemed like impossible miracles, and he felt pretty goddamn lucky.

Nancy was a different story. She dragged herself through school each day like it was the hardest thing in the world, looking like her mind was a million miles away. Missing her friend. Yeah, Steve was an idiot, but he knew _that_ much. He just didn’t know how to help her. All he could do was ...  be there? Wait for her to need a hug, or for someone to make her laugh, or have desperate, angry, life-affirming sex in the back of his car with?

It seemed pretty useless, now that he’d seen the real Nancy and all the things that lurked under her surface – courage and intellect, sure, but also rage, vengeance, and sadness so deep he didn’t feel like he’d ever truly understand it. But if she needed him even a little bit, then he’d be there for her.

And then there was Jonathon to consider.

 Steve knew he was probably going through this whole ‘rival love interest’ thing the wrong way, by accepting that Jonathon just wasn’t going anywhere. But he’d followed the script the first time around, and fucked everything up. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing now, but it felt like a better idea than being a total asshole and then getting his face punched in.

Then, the week before Christmas, Nancy had forced him to confront just how weird the whole this was, and how weird it was going to get.

“I kissed Jonathon.” She said it like a challenge, her chin tilted up and her hands balled into fists. “Last night.”

“Oookay,” he’d said, feeling like he’d been punched in the gut, and then angry at himself for feeling that way. He _knew_ this was coming, even let it happen, kind of. So did he have any right to feel angry or sad? His mind was screaming _yes_ , so he started nodding slowly. “Okay.”

She glared at him. “’Okay’? That’s it?” She actually looked hurt by his response.

“What do you want me to say, Nancy?” he demanded. “It’s not like this is a surprise.”

She looked like he’d slapped her. Immediately, he regretted saying it in _quite_ those words.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I just – I mean...” He dragged his hands through his hair and over his face. “Look, I know you like him. And he’s crazy about you. I know you’ve got this ... connection. But you needed time to decide, and that’s okay, now you’ve decided, and I’ll just ...” _Get out of the way_.

But Nancy was shaking her head. “No. No Steve, I haven’t. I mean, I can’t. I know I’m being selfish, and I’m sorry, but I’m not doing this.”

“Uh ... I’m not following.”

Nancy folded her arms tightly and took a deep breath. “I ... I’m saying I like you both.”

“Okay, yep, got that bit.”

“And I know it’s not fair to keep you both hanging, so I should just let one of even both of you go, but, well, I can’t.”

He waited for her to explain further, but she just stood there, still looking kind of mad. He couldn’t tell which of them she was mad at, though. Since she wasn’t going to add anything else, he tried to summarise the situation thus far. “So, you like us both. Me and Jonathon. But you can’t decide who you like more. Right?”

She nodded, her lips pursed.

She was gearing up for a fight, he realised. Expecting him to be angry. Did he feel angry? He wasn’t really sure anymore. Mostly he was still confused. “But you guys fought a monster together. You’re like, a team.”

“You were there too, Steve.”

“Only by accident. And I freaked the fuck out.”

“But you came back,” she said quietly. “And you stayed, after. That meant a lot to me ... to both of us, I think.”

He blinked, trying to wrap his head around it all. Nancy sat down beside him. “Look. I don’t expect you to understand or be okay with this. But I feel like I need both of you in my life right now.”

“For how long?” He thought about what it might be like, living in limbo while Nancy sorted out her feelings. It seemed daunting and yet ... it still looked better than the gaping chasm that was life without her.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

He could put the pressure on her, he thought. Demand that she just make a choice and stick to it. But that would mean cutting one of them out of her life completely; another loss. Could she cope with that? Could Jonathon? Did Steve even care?

 _Yeah_ he thought, grudgingly. Like it or not, Jonathon’s wellbeing kind of wormed its way onto his priority list. Speaking of which ...

 “What does _he_ think about this?”

She looked sheepish. “Not exactly sure. He kind of ... freaked out when I kissed him.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, I bet.” They sat in silence for a while. Eventually, Nancy rubbed her eyes.

“Look, I know this is weird, and kind of wrong, like, on so many levels. But I just wanted to be honest about it. Okay? So thanks for listening, and for being there for me, and being ...” She gave him a watery smile that damn near broke his heart. It was a goodbye smile. “Steve Harrington.”

She kissed him on the cheek and started to pull away. He caught her hand. “Wait. Wait, wait. Just, hold on a sec.”

She waited, her eyebrows raised.

He nodded again. “Okay.”

“Okay?” she repeated. Hope bloomed in her eyes. “Really?”

Steve pulled her back in, and she fit neatly against him in that way he adored. “It’s weird, Nance.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“Also, you could have picked any other guy, but _no_ , it had to be Jonathon Byers.”

“ _Steve_.”

He grinned against her hair. “But you gotta do what you gotta do, right? And I’ll do what I’ve gotta do, too.”

“Are you sure? I don't want you to feel like I don't care about you ... and I definitely don't want you fighting again.”

"Right, 'cause that worked out great for me the first time." She gave him a scolding look. He held up his hands in surrender. "No fighting, promise."  


She didn't say ‘I love you’, but he imagined that there were traces of it in her lips as she kissed him, and Steve felt like something slot neatly into place.

_

So, Steve adjusted. He paid for the camera that Nancy picked out, and let her give it to Jonathon. When school went back after Winter Break, he invited Jonathon to sit at the table with them, and suffered through the most awkward forty five minutes of his life. And then, he did the exact same thing the next day.

Jonathon was _not_ great company to start with – he sat in silence with his head bowed, and looked bored out of his skull whenever Steve opened his mouth. But sometimes he smiled at Nancy like she was the most beautiful thing in the world, even when she was having a bad day and actually looked like murder. And on the really bad days, they’d sit together in silence and Steve knew she was coping.

It was worth it, Steve told himself. Besides, it’s not like anyone else was queuing up to share his lunch table; turns out, kicking Tommy and Carol out of his life had caused the rest of his social circle to disappear. Not a great loss, honestly, but it is an adjustment. Navigating the high school social pyramid used to be easy, and now it's not.

As the days went by, Steve managed to annoy Jonathon into actual conversation. There was a process: he’d name a band he liked, Jonathon would choke on his drink in horror, and then spend the rest of the hour outlining why Steve’s taste in music sucked. It was hilarious.

Life went on, and day by day, it got a little bit better.

_

“So, you both look like shit,” Steve said, by way of starting their lunchtime conversation. “What, was there some party I didn’t get invited to last night? An all night study session? Don’t tell me you went monster hunting without me, it would break my heart.”

Jonathon and Nancy gave him near-identical looks of contempt, but it was undermined by how dead tired they both looked. His concern escalated.

“Seriously, did something happen?”

Nancy sighed and shook her head. “Nope, just a bad sleep. Mike woke me up.”

Jonathon muttered something that sounded similar. Steve had never been so grateful that he was an only child.

“Okay, well. Here’s an idea. We skip school, go to the movies, and you can make out on the back of the theatre until you fall asleep.”

Jonathon choked on his drink and went bright red, the same way he always did when Steve made fun of the relationship between him and Nancy. What, like he was going to act like it wasn’t happening? Give him a break. If he was going to be okay with his girlfriend seeing another guy, he should at least be allowed to tease them about it.

Nancy was also blushing, but she tossed her head and refused to be embarrassed. “And you’ll, what, chaperone?”

“Hell no. We’ll take turns.”

She threw a grape at him. “You’re an _idiot_ , Steve Harrington.”

“I’m not hearing any good arguments against my brilliant plan?”

She threw another grape. He caught that one in his mouth and wiggled his eyebrows at her. She ducked her head to hide a full-on grin, and he counted that as a win. Then he turned to Jonathon, who looked like he wanted to sink through the table and curl up on the floor. Steve kicked him lightly in the shin. “Well, Byers? You want to get out of here?”

“Shut up, Steve.”

“Fine, I’ll make you a deal. If you can make it to the end of the day without falling asleep in chem, I’ll postpone our movie night till the weekend. If _not_ , and I’m liking my odds a lot better, then we are seeing _Footloose_ in cinemas, tonight, at 6:30.”

“I am _not_ sitting through _Footloose_ ,” Jonathon said vehemently.

“Oh but Nancy wants to see it, and you wouldn’t disappoint her, now would you?”

Jonathon looked at Nancy with scepticism, as if expecting her to join him on his snobbish high horse. For a moment, she looked deeply conflicted. Then, shamefully, she said, “I do kind of want to see _Footloose_.”

He groaned. Nancy ducked down to catch his eye hopefully. “It could be fun, you know. We could sit up the back so you can make scathing comments?”

 For just a fraction of a second, Jonathon looked like he might actually say yes. But then he shook his head. “I can’t, I’m looking after Will tonight. Mom’s back at work.”

“Bring him,” Steve suggested, refusing to let the idea go. “It’s not like it’s R-rated.”

Nancy shot him a flat look, and he realised too late that bringing one meant bringing the whole hoard, including her brother, who tended to look at Steve like he was some kind of worm that Nancy had dug up from the garden bed and decided to keep as a pet. Also, it would mean that the whole ‘making out’ aspect of the date would have to be cancelled. (Maybe that was for the best; Steve wasn’t sure exactly how it would work yet.)

Again, Jonathon considered this. But he shook his head. “It’s been a while since it was just me and him. I think ... I think I need to just be there and ... talk to him.”

Ooh boy, they were back to the guilty brother feelings. Movie night was officially cancelled.

Nancy tilted her head. “Is everything okay with him?”

Jonathon’s head hung fractionally lower. Steve suddenly got the sense that they were approaching the reason why he hadn’t slept well the previous night. He stopped chewing and tried to look supportive.

“He just ... he seems off. He’s trying way too hard to be okay, but he’s not.”

Nancy put a hand on his arm. “Five minutes in that place was terrifying. I can’t imagine how hard a whole week would be. But he’s a strong kid, you know?”

“That’s not all,” Jonathon said, tapping his finger on the table in agitation. Steve wondered just how long he’d been keeping these worries bottled up. “I think he’s hiding something.”

Nancy went stiff beside him. “What do you mean?”

“Last night I came home from work late and he should have been in bed hours ago, but he was up and sitting in the TV room. He wasn’t watching TV or playing on his Atari or anything. He was just ... sitting there. Staring at nothing. Didn’t even realise I was in the room for about a minute.”

“Dude,” Steve said. “That’s creepy.”

He expected Jonathon to snap at him in defence of his brother, but he just shrugged miserably. “Yeah, kinda.”

Nancy was frowning at her lunch tray, looking deeply troubled. “Did he do anything else?”

“Nope. Just said hi when he realised I was there, and went off to bed. I thought he looked scared at first, but thinking about it now, he just looked ... I don’t know, blank. Like he wasn’t there at all.”

Steve looked at Nancy, hoping she had something comforting to say. But she looked pretty absent herself, so he cleared his throat. “I guess he’s been through a lot though, right? Maybe he was having flashbacks or something.”

Jonathon looked doubtful. “I know what his flashbacks look like, and his nightmares. He’s had them every night since he got back. Sometimes twice a night. This was different. And sometimes he’s talking to me, right, but he’s not really _looking_ at me, it’s like he’s looking just behind me.”

A shiver ran down Steve’s spine.

“But he won’t talk to me, and I don’t know what to do.”

“What does your mom think?” Steve asked.

Jonathon’s face twisted guiltily.

“Come on, you must have talked to her about it, at least?” Joyce Buyers was pretty kooky, but she had a good head for this sort of supernatural shit. And he’d heard she was pretty handy with an axe. Steve hoped she never heard about the awful things he said about her.

“She’s been through enough, and she’s so happy to have him back. I don’t want to worry her over nothing.” Jonathon’s voice cracked slightly. “Maybe it’s not Will. Maybe I’m the one who’s mental. It should be over, you know? But I feel like there’s still something out there, just waiting. I can’t get it out of my head.”

There was a fairly horrible silence, in which Jonathon was clearly trying not to get too emotional, Steve felt helpless and awkward, and Nancy looked like she was making a tough decision. Finally she turned to Jonathon. “Last night, Mike thought he saw Eleven in the woods.”

They both turned to look at her, startled.

“He went outside and started calling for her, so I followed him out.”

“Was she there?” Jonathon asked.

Nancy shook her head. “No, there was nothing. But ... it didn’t feel right. It felt like maybe there was something there, and I just couldn’t see it.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?” Steve demanded. “We made an agreement, okay? Creepy stuff needs to be communicated!”

“Nothing happened!” Nancy said defensively. “I was tired and having bad dreams, Mike’s been missing her like crazy, and I thought I was being paranoid.” She swallowed. “But, if Will is also seeing things, maybe it’s not nothing.”

Jonathon sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Okay. I’ll come around tonight and look around the area.”

Nancy shot him a sceptical look. “You probably won’t see anything. Besides, don’t you have to babysit Will?”

“I’ll bring him. He can hang out with your brother for a couple of hours, right?”

“I guess,” Nancy said. “Okay. We’ll do a drive-around.”

Steve stared at them both. “Uh, have you both lost your minds? You want to go looking for more monsters?”

“We have to at least check it out,” she said.

“ _Or_ you could call the Chief, let him deal with it? He’s in the know, right?”

“Hopper’s out of town,” Jonathon said. “Interstate, actually. Mom told me.”

“And I wouldn’t trust those idiots he works with any farther than I could throw them,” Nancy added, folding her arms.

Well, she had him there. He threw his head back. “I still think we should take the kids to _Footloose_ instead. That way everyone’s safe.”

“You wanna go to the movies, knock yourself out,” Jonathon snapped, about to stand up.

“Woah, hey, no. I’m coming with you morons.”

“Steve,” Nancy said softly. “You don’t have to. It probably _is_ nothing.”

“Well either it’s something and I introduce it to the wrong side of my bat, or it’s nothing and I get to say ‘I told you so’. Win-win, really.”

“It’s _my_ bat,” Jonathon muttered petulantly.

“And when you learn how to swing it like a man, you can have it back,” Steve said, grinning obnoxiously. “Until then, it’s staying in my trunk, Byers.”

Jonathon threw a grape at him.

_


	3. Chapter 3

 

Jonathon had stopped asking Will if he was ok a while ago. Primarily because it felt redundant, but also because he got the sense that Will was sick of lying to his face every day. He thought maybe Will just needed a bit of space, the chance to be a normal kid again and have normal conversations. But now, without him realising, the space had become a gulf. There was no getting around Will’s cheerful smile and easy conversation, or the dead silence that had replaced screaming nightmares every night.

After the conversation he’d had with Nancy and Steve today, Jonathon decided it was time to try again.

“Hey, dude,” he said to Will when he got home that afternoon. His brother was sitting at the table, colouring in a drawing, and eating a sandwich filled with unidentifiable substances. “How was school?”

“It was okay. Mr Clarke showed us his new radio, but he didn’t let us try it out yet.”

“Cool.” He opened the fridge to see what might be usable for dinner. “Does this one reach Australia?”

Will grinned. “I hope so. Dustin’s been practising his Aussie accent, it’s hilarious.”

“Uh-oh.” He grabbed some leftover meatloaf and a few potatoes, and tried to think of a casual way to approach the topic. “So, um. Did you have any trouble staying awake today?”

The scratch of pencils on paper continued. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you were up pretty late last night.”

“Oh. No, I was fine. Last period was science.”

“Good. That’s good.” Jesus, when did he get so bad at this? Throwing subtlety to the wind, he turned to face Will, leaning against the counter. “Hey, you know, you can tell me anything, okay?”

Will stopped drawing and looked at him. “Okay?”

“I mean, things that are worrying you ... even if you feel like you can’t tell mom because it might worry her too.”

Will was quiet for a moment. Jonathon willed himself not to feel anxious as the silence stretched on, but his fingers were gripping the counter and he didn’t want to breathe too deeply. Will’s eyes were on him, intent like they were seeing him for the first time in weeks.

“Okay,” Will finally said, and went back to his drawing. All the air in Jonathon’s lungs left him in a rush. He was disappointed, but also, shamefully, a little relieved. The silence that followed was awkward.

“Okay. Just so you know.” He turned back to the counter, feeling like a failure. “Hey, do you feel like going over to Mike’s for a couple of hours after dinner?”

Will stopped drawing and looked at him. “Why?”

“Uhh ... we were maybe gonna see a movie,” he mumbled.

His brother perked up. “You and Nancy?”

“... and Steve.”

“Oh.” He looked a little disappointed. “Sure, that’s fine.”

_

Will was officially not allowed to go bike-riding by himself at night anymore – Mom’s rules. Jonathon had no problem with that. He’d happily chauffeur his brother all over town every night for the rest of his life, if it meant not having to worry about him disappearing again. Besides, the only places Will ever really wanted to go outside of school were his friends’ houses. Usually Mike’s.

Jonathon had never set foot inside the Wheeler house prior to the whole monster thing, but from the outside it had never impressed him. A nice, generic, middle-class residence. His brother swore the basement was awesome though.

Nowadays, the place was practically a second home. Not _home_ -home. He’s take his own house, with its tiny rooms, dilapidated facade, boarded up walls and burned carpet, over this place any day. But it felt okay to come by so often, knowing that Will was safe there, and Nancy was up in her room, studying or reading.

Tonight, Steve Harrington’s car was already parked out front. That was also familiar.

“You know, you don’t have to make up excuses to see Nancy,” Will said as Jonathon parked his car behind Steve.

Jonathon braked abruptly. “What?”

Will was fiddling with the straps on his backpack, but he shot Jonathon a droll look. “I’m not stupid, Jonathon. I know you like her. It’s cool.”

“That’s not ... I mean ... mind your own business,” he stuttered. Great, now _he_ was the one who couldn’t look Will in the eye.

“You should definitely ask her out.”

“She has a boyfriend,” he said, gesturing to Steve’s car. “See?”

Will shrugged. “Sure, but I reckon she’d go for it if you asked her. Mike says she’s crazy about you.”

Alright, so abstractly, Jonathon knew this. Because he and Nancy were already together ... sort of. But hearing it in that way made him feel stupidly, embarrassingly warm all over.

He’d considered telling Will the truth about him and Nancy, but hadn’t for a couple of reasons; firstly, he didn’t want it getting out that Nancy had ‘two boyfriends’ – it was a small town, and she’d get a lot of shit for it. Besides, how could he explain it to his brother when he could barely understand it himself? He’d never had a girlfriend before, but what he and Nancy had was so different from what he thought a relationship was supposed to look like. It was _definitely_ nothing like what she had with Steve. They didn’t hold hands in the hallway or go on dates. He didn’t sneak into her room at night to make out. They’d only kissed a couple of times. In fact, Steve offering to drag them out of school and take them to the movies was the closest they’d come to an actual ‘date’, which was both weird and kind of pathetic.

“It’s complicated,” was what he ended up saying.

Will rolled his eyes theatrically. “Whatever. No offense, but teenagers are dumb.”

Jonathon smiled ruefully. “Yeah, I know. Come on.”

He walked his brother to the door and waited until Mrs Wheeler let him inside. “Hi Jonathon,” she said pleasantly, while Will took off to the basement.

“Hi, Mrs Wheeler,” he said, trying not to shuffle his feet too much. “Thanks for letting Will come over.”

“Oh, he’s welcome any time. How’s your mom doing?”

“Pretty good,” he answered, glad that it was the truth. “She’s just started back at work.”

“Oh, good. Please tell her I said hi.”

“Sure ...”

Their doorstep small talk was interrupted by two sets of boots coming down the stairs. Nancy appeared first, dressed in jeans and a bomber jacket. Steve followed, dressed as he normally was.

“Mom, we’ll be back in a couple of hours,” she said without preamble.

Mrs Wheeler’s face creased in concern, and Jonathon couldn't help but feel a little guilty. He knew why Nancy couldn’t tell her anything – government conspiracies were all well and good, but monsters were in another ballpark. She wasn’t like his mom. But she cared about her kids, and it was clear that she didn’t know how to help Nancy.

It seemed she’d given up on trying to restrict her daughter’s freedom, though, because she merely gave the three of them a tight smile. “Okay. Be careful driving out there this time of night.”

Steve gave her his most charming smile. “Don’t even worry, Mrs Wheeler. We’ll be back as soon as the movie’s over.”

Jonathon’s not sure whether she bought that or not, but she let them go and closed the door behind them. Steve clapped his hands together. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

“Your enthusiasm is totally unwarranted for the situation,” Jonathon told him, walking back to his car.

“Aren’t we taking my car?” Steve said.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because mine has better tapes.”

“Okay, now _that_ is unwarranted.”

“ _Guys_ ,” Nancy said. “Can we leave the unnecessary arguments for later, please?”

Steve and Jonathon glared at each other. After a moment, Steve sighed. “Fine, I’ll grab my bat and we’ll take Jonathon’s pretentious rust-bucket.”

“It’s _my_ bat.”

_

They drove around the neighbourhood a couple of times, and didn’t see anything. There weren’t many people out – it was still too cold. Nancy was in the passenger seat, staring intently out the window. Jonathon could tell she was on high alert from the set of her shoulders, and the shape of the gun in her pocket.

“So, this is getting old,” Steve said, after about twenty minutes.

“Maybe we should check the woods,” Nancy suggested quietly. “It’s not far from my place.”

Jonathon didn’t like the idea, but it made sense. Ignoring Steve’s groan, he drove them to the closest corner of the woods that surrounded Hawkins. The three of them got out of the car and he got the flashlight out of the trunk. After a moment, he also grabbed his camera – if they _did_ find something, it would be helpful to show his mom and Hopper when he got back.

“We can’t stay out here too long,” he warned. “I need to get Will home.”

“I know,” she said, and set off into the woods.

“This is a _really_ bad idea,” Steve muttered to Jonathon, the bat hoisted over his shoulder as they followed Nancy. “Am I the only one getting a bad feeling about this?”

“Hey, you wanted to come,” he reminded him, fiddling with the lens on his camera. It distracted him when he should be alert for threats, but Steve insisted on having the bat, so he could be the one to keep a look-out.

“I’m just saying, there’s a difference between preventative caution, and looking for trouble,” he insisted. “And you guys don’t seem to know where to draw the line sometimes.”

“Yeah, because waiting around for the trouble to come to us is so much better.”

“Pffft, you’re looking for excuses.”

Jonathon ignored him, peering through the viewer on his camera and taking an experimental shot of Nancy. Steve bumped him lightly in the side.

“She looks pretty awesome tonight, huh?” he said.

Jonathon shot Steve a look, but he was staring at the back of Nancy’s head and smiling. “What?”

“I’m saying, she looks awesome. Like the heroine in an action movie. You could do a whole portfolio of her pointing weapons at stuff, and sell it as a movie storyboard.”

Jonathon shook his head, but a small smile tugged at his lips. “She’d kill me.”

“Well, yeah. But I’m just saying, theoretically, it would be cool.”

“I guess.” It felt weird talking to Steve about Nancy, especially in an admiring sort of way. It was like he was going up to the elephant in the room and patting it on the head, telling it it was okay to come out and hang. But Jonathon didn’t know if he could do that. Talking to Steve about anything still felt precarious; like the ease and friendliness had all been an act, and it could vanish at any moment.

Jonathon didn’t want to think about how much he would miss it when it was gone.

“Are you talking about me?” Nancy asked, tossing a look over her shoulder that was half-exasperated, half-amused.

“Nah, Jonathon’s just taking stalker pics of you again,” Steve said. Jonathon hit him in the side, but he just laughed.

“I’m _not ..._ I’m just ... shut up, Steve." That was another annoying trait of Steve’s – he was a walking example of the phrase, ‘Too soon?’

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Do I need to remind you guys that we’re actually out her for serious reasons?”

“No, Ma’am,” Steve said, saluting with his free hand.

They walked like that for a while longer. The woods got darker and denser the further they walked, but there was nothing ominous about it. Every now and then, an owl would hoot or some animal would scurry along the forest floor, and they’d pause for a moment, quiet and alert. But that was it. The stars were brighter out here, Jonathon noticed. Back before ... everything, he used to come out into the woods a lot by himself and take pictures. It was the only place he’d felt like he had the space to be himself. He hadn’t come out here by himself for a while, for fairly obvious reasons. But oddly, even though Nancy was strung taught like a wire and Steve was humming crappy songs under his breath, Jonathon still felt like it was peaceful.

The moon was almost full, with enough light to see by. He took a couple more pictures – a dead tree backlit by the moon, a little clearing where the last patches of snow glowed white, of Nancy again, looking pale and focused, and then Steve, swinging the bat idly through the air.

He was feeling almost reluctant to turn back, even though it was approaching the time where they should. But suddenly, Nancy came to a halt. Jonathon stopped and listened, but he couldn’t hear anything, not even an animal.

“You hear something?” he asked.

She didn’t reply. Her head was tilted to the side, and she was perfectly still. The seconds ticked by.

“Nance?” Steve prompted, gripping the handle of the bat.

“There was a voice,” she whispered.

The boys glanced at each other, then back at her. “I didn’t hear it,” Jonathon said. “What kind of voice?”

“It ..” she half-turned towards them. “It was ...”

Her eyes went wide in the moonlight. “Barb,” she breathed, and then, without warning, took off running.

“Nance? _Nancy_!”

They charged after her through the woods, knocking aside branches and dodging trunks. Jonathon fought to keep Nancy’s swinging ponytail in sight, terrified that she might disappear again. He couldn’t let that happen a second time.

They kept running until he was sweating and his heart felt like it was going to explode right out of his chest. He tripped over a tree root and would have been sent sprawling, if Steve hadn’t grabbed him by the arm.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve panted. “Nancy, this is insane, get back here!”

The half-second delay was enough to lose sight of her, and Jonathon felt his chest constrict. He swung the flashlight from side to side, but there was nothing but trees.

The light stuttered, and then went out, leaving them in near-total darkness. _Oh shit_...

From up ahead somewhere, Nancy cried out. Fuelled by fresh panic, they started running again.

He spotted her, finally, standing with her back to them and her head tilted back, staring out into the darkness. The gun was in her hand, but hanging limply by her side. He could see she was trembling.

“Nancy!”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, but didn’t turn around to face them. Her hand tightened on the gun.

“Nancy, get back here ...”

“Shut up,” she whispered, her voice pitched high.

He had no idea what she was looking at, but he realised it didn’t matter. There was something _wrong_ here, and he was seized by the urge to get out, now. He wanted to grab both Steve and Nancy and run all the way back to the car.

Before any of them could make another move, _it_ moved.

He didn’t know what _it_ was, could barely see anything. But the darkness before them seemed to expand, stretching out towards them. Jonathon had the impression that he was no longer looking at night time shadows, but some kind of _gap_ , a chasm in the woods that was opening up before their eyes. A cold chill swept over the area. He felt paralysed, his feet rooted to the ground.

The next part happened very quickly. Nancy brought her gun up and fired three times right in front of her. Not one of the shots seemed to connect with anything. Suddenly, she fell backwards and hit the ground with a cry, sliding forward as if something was pulling her by the ankle. He and Steve sprang forward into action. He threw himself at the ground, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her back, away from the darkness. Steve planted himself between them and _it_ , swinging the bat. It didn’t hit anything, but it did seem to meet some kind of resistance, slowing its arc through the air to a sluggish halt. He wrenched it away and stumbled back a couple of steps.

“Steve, _move_!” Nancy ordered. He lunged to one side and she aimed her gun again, pulling the trigger.

Jonathon didn’t see what the bullet hit, but it was clear that she hit _something_. A high, piercing sound echoed around them. The darkness seemed to tremble, and then folded in on itself, retreating further into the woods.

“C’mon, move, _move_ ,” Steve said, hauling Nancy up off the ground by her arm. Jonathon stumbled to his feet and grabbed her other hand. Together, they ran as fast as they could in the other direction. He didn’t look back, but in his peripheral, he saw Nancy glance over her shoulder.

They didn’t let go of each other until the edge of the woods was in sight. The high-pitched squeal followed them for a while, until it, too, faded away and there was nothing to hear but the ragged sound of their breaths.

_

The ride home was quiet. Nancy sat in the back this time, pressed along Steve's side. She didn't make a sound, but tears were running down her face. Jonathon kept a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel and tried not to breathe too quickly or start crying himself.

 

By unspoken agreement, they both followed Nancy up to her room when she got home. Steve pasted on a smile and reassured her mother ( _"_ :It brought tears to my eyes too! A masterpiece of cinema, I tell ya!"), which Jonathon was immeasurably grateful for - he wasn't capable of acting like a normal human being just yet.

Nancy locked her door and sat on her bed for a while, not saying anything. Steve sat down beside her and Jonathon leaned against the door, pulling his knees up to his chest. He'd never been in this room with both of them at the same time, before. But he understood - this wasn't a Steve-and-Nancy moment or a Jonathon-and-Nancy moment. She needed both of them there, and a small part of Jonathon, one he didn't want to examine too closely, realised that he needed them, too.

"It was Barb," she eventually said, fiddling with the corner of her duvet. "I mean, it wasn't her, but it had her face. Her voice. It  _used_ her to get to me."

Her voice trembled with anger. Steve tightened his grip on her shoulder. "What the hell was it, exactly?"

She shrugged. "Something dangerous," she said. "It could have got Mike, last night."

"You should tell him," Jonathon said, thinking of Will, wondering if he'd been seeing gaps in the world when he stared off at nothing.

She took a shaky breath. "I know. I'll talk to him later." She looked at him. "Could you stop lurking on the floor? Come sit up here."

Jonathon's eyes flickered to Steve to see what he thought of that, but Steve just watched him passively. Slowly, he got to his feet and gingerly sat down beside her. She took his hand, and his heart started to race. Te last time he'd been on this bed, she'd kissed him. It hadn't been the first time, but it had felt better - less terrifying, at any rate. She'd curled her hand around the back of his head and he'd let her pull him towards her, marvelling at the softness of her skin and the wiry strength of her arms.

For a second he was scared that she'd kiss him again, with Steve right next to her, but she merely held his hand and squeezed her eyes shut. He felt the urge to cry again, in empathy for her pain, and at the realisation that this  _wasn't_ over. Their peace and safety had been short-lived, and maybe it hadn't existed at all.

"It's not fair," she whispered. He just nodded, unable to speak.

Steve's hand found his shoulder, pressing down. He jumped slightly, but didn't try to dislodge it. And when his thumb started moving in slow, comforting circles against the joint of his neck, he let out, a slow, shaky breath and leaned closer to Nancy, drinking in their shared warmth. They were pushing the boundaries tonight, and he didn't know what it meant. But maybe, in this moment, it didn't matter so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, everyone :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, this was a long one. The one POV per chapter format was no longer working for me, so we get this monster chapter instead.
> 
> Please note: there will be homophobic slurs and misogynistic language in this chapter.

Jonathan hadn’t wanted to leave, but he had to take Will home. Steve had stayed a while longer, until her mom had hinted politely that Nancy had to get to sleep. He’d offered to sneak back in through the window, but she’d declined. She was sick of being such an emotional drain, and Steve let her get away with it way too much.

Barbara’s face remained constant in her vision that night, even as she drifted between dreams and wakefulness. Sometimes she just looked normal, other times she was dead and half-eaten, and every so often, there was a bullet hold in the centre of her forehead ... a bullet Nancy put there. Shot-in-the-head-Barb looked at Nancy with surprise and betrayal in her eyes, opening her mouth to say something, but the darkness swallowed her up.

Nancy threw up three times during the night, and when morning finally rolled around, her mom came into her room and gently insisted that she was to stay home for the day. Nancy didn’t bother arguing. She couldn’t even work up the energy to get mad about her mom picking the lock on her door.

Before he left for school, Mike also came into her room, and she _did_ get annoyed by that – but mostly out of habit.

“What?” she said flatly.

“Where did you go last night?” he asked. “I know you didn’t go to a movie. I’m not stupid. Is it because I saw El the other night?”

Nancy could feel her headache getting worse. She forced herself to sit up. “Close the door,” she said.

Mike looked surprised, but he shut the door behind him.

“Yeah, we went out,” she said bluntly. “We had a look around the neighbourhood, and then we went looking in the woods.”

His eyes went wide. “Did you find anything?” he asked, and she could see the tremulous hope building. She swung her feet off the bed and leaned forward to give him a stern look.

“Listen to me, okay? What you saw the other night, it _wasn’t_ her. I was a _thing_ that used her to get to you. It’s dangerous, Mike, and if you see it again, I want you to run as fast as you can in the other direction.”

He scrunched his face up belligerently. Not wanting to believe. “How do you know?”

Haltingly, she described what she Steve and Jonathan encountered the previous night. As she spoke, it dawned on her that she really had no idea what they saw. In her memory was an image of Barbara, but it was distorted, bleeding into her nightmares until both are indistinguishable from each other. The thing had turned to her and smiled with Barb’s mouth, then just kept on smiling until her face was all teeth. She’d spoken to Nancy, but instead of words, slimy-looking black things had spilled out of her mouth, dripping to the ground and then falling into a deep, bottomless hole. The whole wasn’t in the ground, though; it was behind her. A sideways hole.

Nancy had felt herself being pulled into the hole, and shot blindly at whatever was grabbing her – it was only when Jonathan grabbed hold of her, anchoring her back to reality, that she’d had enough sense to shoot at the thing wearing Barb’s face, and only then had it seemed to retreat. It looked shocked – Barb’s eyes had gone wide, and she stopped grinning like a creature from the bottom of the sea. Nancy had had a moment of doubt and crippling terror ( _she’d killed her best friend again_ ), but again, the boys had been there, and she’d been able to run away.

They hadn’t seen Barb. They hadn’t seen anything but the darkness.

Mike listened. And when she finished, he started pacing around her floor.

“Okay, so you mean, there was like a doorway, right?” he said, apparently latching on to the one thing that he could kind of understand. “Like the gate to the Upside Down?”

“Maybe. I mean. I don’t know.” Nancy massaged her temples. “I went through a gate, before. It didn’t look the same.”

“Okay, so maybe it _was_ a gate, but it didn’t lead to the same place?”

He started babbling about Carl Sagan and acrobats, and he sounded _excited_. Nancy threw her arms up stiffly.

“Mike, shut up for a second!” she said. “Look, it doesn’t matter where it goes. We need to _stay_ _away_ from it.”

“But ...”

“I mean it, Mike! This thing knows us, somehow. It knows what our weaknesses are. If you see Eleven again, you have to run away from her, understand?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by their mom yelling from downstairs.

“Mike! Leave your sister alone, she’s not well! You have to leave now or you’ll be late for school!”

“Coming!” he bellowed. To Nancy, he said, “Okay, so there might be another gate to another dimension, and it has its own magnetic pull, which is kind of awesome, but there’s also _another_ monster, which kind of looks like people who are ... gone.”

“Pretty much,” she said.

“And we’re just going to, what, run away from it and pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“ _We_ are going to wait until Chief Hopper gets back, and tell him. He’s better with this kind of thing, and Jonathan thinks he might know other people who might be able to help.”

“Government people?” Mike asked suspiciously.

Nancy frowned at him. “Don’t be an ass, Mike. We can trust Hopper.”

“I guess...”

“And in the meantime, you need to leave it alone. Got it? No biking out into the woods with your friends to look for monsters.”

“You mean, like you guys did?” he challenged.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “No, because we drove. Because we’re not children. Also, we didn’t know what we were dealing with, and trust me, I’m avoiding that thing at all costs from now on. So you need to do the same, okay?”

Mike sighed and threw his head back dramatically.

“Promise?” Nancy said.

He held out for another few moments, pouting. But finally, he threw his arms up. “Okay, fine. But if you see anything else, you gotta tell me.”

“Deal,” she said. “You, too.”

Mike had just enough time to agree to that before their mom came stomping back up the stairs to hurry him off to school. Then Nancy was left alone again, watching the morning sun filter through her window and wondering if there were really gaps in the world, or just in her head.

_

When Steve got the call from Nancy saying that she was staying home that day, he didn’t blame her. In fact, he almost rolled back into bed himself, since it sounded like such an awesome idea. His head was pounding, he’d been up most of the night with the light on, and school sounded like the most awful thing in the world.

But then he remembered Jonathan, who never missed a single day of school, and specifically said he would be going in to develop his photos. Jonathan, who would have a total of zero people to sit with, make eye contact with, or interact with if Steve and Nancy weren’t there, forcing him to be a human being.

He probably wouldn’t care, but it was the _principle_ of the thing.

Also, Nancy would kill him.

Steve let out an almighty groan and hauled himself to the shower.

_

The day passed in a daze, and he didn’t even lay eyes on Jonathan until after third period. He finally found him outside his locker, his shoulders hunched and his face hidden by his hair. It was a sad sight. Steve and strode over to smack him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Invisible Man,” he greeted, and Jonathan jumped about three feet in the air, doing a weird, defensive half-twirl.

“Jesus, Steve,” Jonathan mumbled. “Why are you so _awake_.”

“There’s this great thing, it’s called coffee. You look like you need some, via bloodstream.” He leaned down to speak quietly. “You get any sleep last night?”

“Nah. Didn’t expect to, though.”

“Did you talk to your mom?”

Jonathan nodded. “Just this morning. She, uh ...”

“Went ballistic? ‘Cause I don’t blame her.”

He smiled wryly. “Yeah, well you’ll be glad to know I’m grounded till I’m forty eight, or until she’s dead, whichever comes first. No more monster hunting for a while.”

“Thank Christ for that.”

“She’s going to call Hopper, try and get him to come home early.”

Steve smirked. “So what we’re saying is, my plan was right all along?”

Jonathan rolled his eyes. “At least now we know what we’re dealing with.” He stared at the inside of his locker. “Nancy okay, last night?”

“I think so. She didn’t want me to stick around.”

Jonathan sighed. “I’ll call her after school.” He glanced at Steve shiftily. “I mean ... if you’re not gonna ...”

“Dude, it’s _fine_. Call her. See her. We talked about this, man.”

He fiddled with his camera, running his thumb back and forth over the strap. He did a lot of fidgeting, Steve had noticed. “I know, it’s just kind of weird, still.”

“Weirder than carnivorous plant monsters and ghosts?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and smirking. “Weirder than the two of us not killing each other yet, and Nancy Wheeler still giving the time of the day to either of us?”

Jonathan ducked his head to hide a smile. That was another thing he did a lot. It was oddly charming. “Guess it’s not the weirdest thing in the world.” As he stared at the inside of his locker, the smile slowly slid off his face. “Did you see Barbara, last night?”

Steve shook his head. “Nope. Not even close.”

“Did you see _anything_?”

Steve didn’t want to think on last night. It seemed too much like a bad dream that his brain wanted to filter away into the ‘Do Not Touch’ box. But the days of ignoring stuff like this were long gone, and he’d made a commitment. “Not really. It was dark, you know? But I sure felt something.” He tugged at Jonathan’s camera strap. “Maybe you caught it on camera? Not gonna lie though, if I see Barbara Holland’s face in any of those photos, I’ll probably shit myself.”

Jonathon snorted. “We’ll soon find out. I’m about to develop them.” His gaze slid sideways and the half-smile dropped off his face. Steve was about to turn around and see what was wrong, but a hard shove in the small of his back sent him pitching forward. He crashed into Jonathan, who fell backwards into his locker.

“Careful there, Stevie, you’re coming on a little strong!” Tommy H crowed. “Wheeler tried her hardest, but Byers is still a virgin, you know.”

Laughter echoed down the hall. Steve had a second to register Jonathan’s eyes, which went wide with shock before quickly glancing looking downward. His skin was turning red. Steve hastily pushed himself off the locker and spun around to face Tommy H.

“Why don’t you get back here and say that to my face?” he said.

Carol pouted simperingly. “Aww, he wants to defend his boyfriend’s honour! Does your slut girlfriend know how much you guys wuv each other?”

Steve’s hand’s balled into fists.

“Nah, we all know Steve doesn’t have the balls to defend anyone.”

He was about to march right over there and put his fist through Tommy’s smug face – and he didn’t hit girls, but if Tommy happened to bump into Carol on the way to the floor, he wouldn’t cry about it – but was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Steve,” Jonathan said quietly, from behind him. “You don’t have to prove anything to them. They’re not worth it.”

Tommy, Carol and their hanger-ons were already at the other end of the hall. “Listen to your boyfriend, Steve, he knows what’s good for you!” he called back.

As soon as they were out of sight, Steve turned around and punched one of the lockers. A couple of students, who were stilling milling about with amused looks on their faces, quickly scuttled away.

“Steve,” Jonathan began.

“They’ve got no fucking idea,” he spat.

“I know,” he said quietly. The bell rang, signalling the start of lunch, but Steve and Jonathan didn’t move. “I’m going to develop these,” he said after a few moments, gesturing with his camera.

“Don’t you want to eat first?”

He gave a little half-shrug. “Not really.”

Steve sighed and slumped back against the locker. He rubbed his wrist, which had taken the brunt of his locker-dive. Jonathan’s eyes traced the motion. “Yeah, me neither. Can I watch?”

Jonathan gave him a sceptical look. “You sure? It’ll be boring.”

“Hah, like sitting by myself in the cafeteria will be so exciting.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to say something, but then seemed to think better of it. “Alright, suit yourself. He closed his locked and set off down the hall, Steve following.

_

The darkroom was thankfully empty during the lunch break. Jonathan worked quietly and with great concentration. Steve sat on one of the little stools and watched him, trying not to fidget too much. Jonathan seemed more at ease in the dim red light, secure in what he was doing. It was a stark contrast from how he usually was, and Steve actually felt calmer just looking at him.

But he was right about one thing – developing photos was kind of boring, and he was getting hungry.

“How long does this usually take?” he asked.

Jonathan smirked at him. “Nancy said basically the same thing, last time she was in here. You’re giving me déjà vu.”

“You think I could pass for her, in this light?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. “We’re both extremely pretty.”

Jonathan rolled his eyes and turned back to what he was doing. “Don’t think you could pull off her skirts.” It was extremely hard to tell in here, but he looked like he might be blushing again.

Steve grinned smugly. “I totally could.”

After another few minutes, Jonathan pinned his pictures up and the images began to appear. Steve watched, his heart pounding, expecting all sorts of monsters to be creeping in at the corners. But so far, there was nothing. There were plenty of shots of the woods, but as hard as he squinted, he couldn’t make out anything that shouldn’t be there. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. “Well, they look good,” Steve said, because it was true. “Especially _this_ one.” He pointed to one of himself, swinging his bat around. Jonathan knocked his hand away.

“Don’t touch them yet,” he cautioned. After another few minutes of staring, he sighed. “We might get a better look outside.”

“Maybe. Or we might see nothing.” He caught the disappointed, frustrated look on Jonathan’s face. “Hey, don’t worry about it. It was a long shot.”

Jonathan shook his head and started taking snapping the pictures off the drying line. He paused, looking at one with his brother’s face on it. A couple of his friends were also in the shot, pulling stupid faces. Steve grinned when he saw it – it was wonky and blurred, nothing like the Jonathan’s photos. “What’s that one doing there?”

“Will borrowed my camera last week.” He pointed to a couple more shots, which included the kids’ faces, a lot of close-ups of nostrils, and what looked like some shots of a Dungeons and Dragons board. Jonathan, though, was still looking at the one of Will. “Steve?” he asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do ... do his eyes look kind of weird in this shot?”

Steve studied the photo. It wasn’t the clearest-looking shot by any means, but Will just looked like he normally did – a small, skinny kid with a big smile and a dorky haircut. His eyes _were_ a bit blurry, but so were Dustins’ and Lucas’, on either side of him. He frowned at Jonathan. “Weird how?”

“I just thought ...” he trailed off, staring intently at his brother’s face. After a minute, he shook his head. “Forget it. I guess it’s just a bad angle.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Maybe you should give your brother some photography lessons.” Steve tilted his head. “You’re still worried about him, huh?”

Jonathan nodded as he packed the photos away. “Still won’t talk to me.”

“Not even after last night?”

“He fell asleep in the car.”

Steve snorted. “That’s a cop out if I ever heard one. He is really good at this whole avoidance thing.”

Jonathan sagged slightly. “Better than he used to be.”

Steve shrugged. “Just keep at him. He’ll have to crack eventually, and then he’ll realise there was nothing to worry about.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I am.” He stretched his arms out. “So, we done in here?”

“Yeah.” He stuffed the photos in his bag.”

“Great, then let’s go join the idiot masses.”

“Steve,” Jonathan said quickly, and grabbed his jacket before he could reach the door. Steve turned round, surprised, and Jonathan hastily removed his hand. “Just ... about before. You don’t have to hang out with me when Nancy’s not here. I know Tommy and Carol are assholes, but there are others ...”

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Steve said. “Look, are we friends or not?”

Jonathan looked like Steve had just asked him a trick question. “Yes?”

“Okay, so that just doesn’t evaporate because Nancy’s not here. Got it?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just ...” he was fidgeting with his bag strap now, looking quietly frantic, and Steve had the sudden urge to grab his hand to make him stop. “At school you, you’ve got options. Other people. You don’t have to be around _me_ all the time. I don’t need ... need ...”

“Need what?” he demanded, when Jonathan trailed off.

“Your pity, I guess.”

Steve was flabbergasted. “That’s what you think this is? Pity?”

“And guilt, I suppose. But I don’t need that, either.” He wasn’t looking at Steve at all now, and the photos in his hand were trembling a little bit.

“Okay, Jesus. Let me spell this out. We are _friends_. I want to hang out with you at school because that’s what friends _do_. Sure there are other people, but maybe I happen to like your company better, even when you’re being a pretentious asshole half the time.”

Jonathan stared at him “Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously! Jesus, man. How many other people at this school can light a fucking monster on fire _and_ talk for an hour straight about tripods?”

“A psycho?” Jonathan suggested.

“How about one who does all that, and then can also argue about the best Kubric film of the last ten years, or how to cook perfect bacon like it’s life or death?”

“A queer, virgin psycho?”

“Oh, shut the fuck up. Tommy’s an ass.”

They both stared at each other for a moment. Jonathan looked like a bundle of nerves wrapped up in awkwardness, but there was an odd, intense look in his eyes. The room suddenly felt too small and warm. Suddenly, an image from last night appeared in his head; not of the darkness, the panic, or Nancy’s terrified face, but the three of them sitting on the bed, and his hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, feeling his tremors slowly give way to slow, even breaths. It felt kind of like that now, only there was no Nancy between them, and no reason for touch or comfort.

Steve needed to get out of this room. He swallowed drily. “So are we going to lunch, or what?”

He half expected Jonathan to argue, or make some excuse to stay in the safety of the darkroom. But he merely shrugged his bag onto a more comfortable position on his shoulder and gestured for Steve to lead the way.

When they got out of the darkroom, Steve sneaked a peak at Jonathan’s face, although it was half-hidden behind his hair again. He was _definitely_ blushing.

The problem was, Steve was probably blushing too.

He was in deep shit.

_

When Jonathan got home that night, his mom was on the phone, arguing with someone on the other line. She was pacing back and forth as far as the phone line would allow and smoking.

“No, I _told_ you, it’s _Byers_ B-Y-E-R-S. He will know the name, I promise you. No, I will not go on hold again-” She threw her head back and turned to Jonathan. “I have been trying to get through this _wall_ of telecommunications since 1:30 this afternoon. The next time I see Hopper, I’m going to _break his legs_ so he can’t go away again!”

Jonathan smirked. “You could just marry him.”

Joyce flapped her hand at him. “Hush your mouth, Jonathan Gordon. I will ground you even more. How was school today, anyway?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Nancy and Steve not coming over tonight?”

“Mom, I don’t think you know how grounding is supposed to work. I’m not allowed to have people over.”

“I haven’t had to ground you in ten years, Jonathan. I don’t remember how it’s supposed to work!” she took a deep drag of her cigarette. “Besides, I’d never stop you from seeing your friends. If you're all here and not out there trying to get yourselves killed, it’s totally fine.”

Jonathan shook his head. His mom was so overjoyed that he was actually socialising with people that she almost didn’t let them leave the few times they came over. It was a wonder they came by at all, between her pushiness, the burn marks on the floor, and the bad memories. Unbidden, Steve's face sprang into his mind, drenched in red light.  _W'e're friends_ , he'd said, with a smirk that was more gentle than infuriating. _I like your company_.

Jonathan shook the thought away, before it could get comfortable in the forefront of his mind.

“Is Will home yet?” he asked.

“In his room,” Joyce said. Suddenly she snapped her attention back to the phone. “Yes, yes, I’m still here. Oh my God, for the last time, I don’t want to _buy_ anything!”

Jonathan made his way down the hall to Will’s room and knocked on the door. After a moment, he received the okay to enter.

“Hey, dude.”

Will was lying on his bed, reading a book. He smiled at Jonathan as he entered. “Hi.”

“What are you reading?”

“The Two Towers.”

“Again?” he sat on the bed next to Will and looked at the tattered paperback. “How many times have you been through those books?”

“It felt like it was time for a re-read. Hey, are you really grounded?”

Jonathan laughed. “Yeah. You are officially the good son.”

Will grinned.

Jonathan cleared his throat. “So, um. About last night. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, but ...”

“I know,” Will interrupted, looking back down at his book. “Mom told me.”

Jonathan ducked his head to try and maintain eye-contact. “How do you feel about it?”

His brother shrugged. “Fine, I guess. I mean, I get that it was dangerous, but Mike says that you guys kind of do this now.”

“Do what?”

“Hunt stuff.”

Jonathan didn’t know what to say to that. “That’s not ... I mean ...” he sighed. “Will, I need to ask you something. Have you seen anything weird around lately?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like ... some kind of hole, or a chasm where there shouldn't be one. Or people who shouldn’t be there. Like how Nancy saw her friend, and Mike saw Eleven.”

“I don’t know any dead people,” Will said. “And I haven’t seen anything.” He was glaring down at his book now, holding it a bit too tightly. Jonathan felt his throat constrict again with all the words they weren’t saying.

Hesitantly, he put his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Hey, look at me.” Will glanced at him, but did not hold his gaze. “Will, remember yesterday, we talked about telling each other stuff, even if we can’t tell anyone else, even mom? Well, I think this is one of those things. There’s something out these and we don’t know exactly what it is, but I _promise_ I won’t let anything happen to you again. You get it?”

Will didn’t say anything. Jonathan felt like there was something building inside the room, an invisible force that was expanding and smothering them both. Like a dark hole. Blood pounded in his ears and his breathing became shallow. “Will, please ... I need to you talk to me. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Nothing,” Will said, his voice low and tight. “I told you a million times, but you won’t listen, and I’m _sick_ of no one listening.”

“I am, okay, I just ...”

“Just leave me alone!” Will suddenly shouted. Jonathan flinched backwards. “Leave me _alone_!”

Before Jonathan could recover from the shock of Will yelling at him, or form any kind of reply, Will jumped off the bed and ran out into the hallway. A second later, he heard the bathroom door slam shut.

Shock gave way to despair, and for a second it felt like he couldn’t breathe at all. He lowered himself to sit on the floor next to Will’s bed and rested his head on his knees, squeezing his eyes shut. He should go after Will, apologise, make him realise that it wasn’t that easy to just push people away, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even choke out a reply to his mom as she called out, wondering what the hell the commotion was.

The fact that Will yelled at him was hard enough to stomach. But what scared him even more was the fact that, just for a second, his little brother's eyes had looked completely black.

Just like in his photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading and for the comments :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, and welcome to my first fic on AO3 :D
> 
> Please leave a comment, concrit is very much appreciated.


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